When Darkness Falls
by Vincent Luccion
Summary: Shirosaki, an orphaned boy almost loses his life when beaten by Yammy, the biggest bully in the warrens. Only to be found and saved by the last person he expected. Now he has fulfill a mission he's not use to, and a mark who is way to cooperating. Then what's he to do when he realizes that he has to protect his mark from being killed?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, this is a very small chapter, I know. It's more like a teaser! But I promise this story is going to be great! So please bare with me with this chapter, I didn't get to use the computer that I'm always using to write, so I had to freehand it on FF copy-n-paste upload. So yeah, let me know what you think! And I promise also, everything will be explained about everything that's going on~ I swear it!~**

**Apparently when I first uploaded this chapter there were some mess ups in the upload because when I went to check it there were so many entries about the underline of the story, and that's not supposed to be there so yeah.**

With the night wet, and the air cold, a small form moved through the night. It wasn't silent, by no means. It held a rough but quick pace. The small form moved as quickly as it could to avoid any prying eyes. Of course he didn't want to be seen, he was a Soul Reaper after all, and no one, no one, wanted to help out a Soul Reaper if they didn't have to. But that was only a title after all, there was no real meaning behind it other than someone with no family, no money, and no where to belong. It was quite sad for sure, but this night, wasn't about being sad. It was about surviving. That's all.

As the thunder rolled over in the clouds above, the bare feet moved through the thick of the mud, the wet cold squish of each step had the boy moving as fast as he could. If he was late, there wouldn't be any coppers left for him, they'd all be taken up by others. It wasn't something that the boy wanted, he had to keep his promise. He had to keep the promise that he'd made to Rukia and Renji, his only two friends, the only two people that he actually cared about. He promised that he wouldn't be late, and here he was. Running through the gutter and filth of the mud just to get there on time

The light of the tavern was still lit, the smell of ale was in the air, and the stench of drunks lingered about as people mumbled and laughed inside the building. Each building in the area was lifted from the ground, standing on bamboo stilts as to not sink into the mud during the rainy seasons like now. But with the light being on, that meant that he made it, there was still a chance to get what he needed. It wasn't exactly what he promised, no, it'd be better!

As he skidded to a stop at the entrance to the building, he peaked through the crack of the door frame that sat between him and the group of men who each had a tankard of ale in their hands. Unknowing what await him, the boy slipped down to his hands and knees as he slid through the mud. Had he been any older, his body would have been too big to fit under the building. But he didn't care about being squished between the floorboards of the tavern and the mud. He needed to get the coppers that he knew men who drank would drop. If he got lucky he might even get a silver, but it was next to impossible for him to get a gold. That would be able to feed him, Rukia, and Renji all for a month!

As he slid through the slick wet mud, he was sure that he'd be caked with it by the time he'd be done. He'd done this enough times to know that it was either worry about how clean you were, or to have food for the day and clean up in the river. Either way, you'd be clean, but there was only one way to be fed.

Almost getting far enough into the mud, he could see a few coppers that had fallen from men's drunk pockets and slipped through the bamboo boards that made up the floors of the tavern. The light from inside that showed through was enough for him to be able to see the pieces and slide himself toward them. But as he was reaching for one, he stopped as he felt a pressure against his back. Someone had stepped on the boards that were above him, causing them to flex and press against him, forcing him deeper into the mud.

"Excuse me, what the fuck did you say?" A drunken voice hollered. Unable to do much, the boy tilted his head to the side to try and look into the tavern that was above him.

"You heard me you drunken skumbag. I don't need to repeat myself, do I?" Someone else spoke from across the way, unseen by the boy because of the boards that hindered his view. There was the sound of metal hitting against wood, and then the splash of ale threw itself around, hitting the boards and spilling onto the boy's head. The smell of the alcohol disgusted the child, but he couldn't do anything because of the weight that held him in place.

"Bastard, who do you think you are! Making me spill my drink like that. I'll teach you to spill a man's drink!" The drunk had spoken, obviously pissed about his drink that now soaked the hair of a child that was unseen by any of the adults above.

"You childish fool, you spilled it on your own, and now you expect to teach me? As if." The weight that was pressed against his back had disappeared for a moment, almost giving him enough time to move. But that's when he heard a groan and then the weight returned, but even stronger than before. This time, it pushed against his face, pushing his cheeks into the mud, he had to close one eye as to not get any in it. With his face turned to the side, his body was not only frozen for the weight on top of him. But he was frozen in fear. There, sticking through the floorboards and through the drunken man's chest, was a sleek metal blade that shined with the tavern light. The blood slid down the blade, meeting the mud.  
>"Get out of here, speak of this to no one." He heard a rough whisper, his one open eye followed the blade up to the floor that lay above him. What he saw though, not only shot fear through him, but also made him fear for Rukia and Renji even. Void of any feeling, cold blooded, the gaze of a brown eye sat on the other side. Looking right into his own honey golden eyes.<p>

But that wasn't all. There was also the snow colored hair that was just long enough for him to see it through the boards as well. Then, the eye was gone. The white locks were out of sight, and the weight that held him pinned to the mud had gone as well. But that was when he heard the boards all over the tavern squeak. People were standing left and right, all looking at the scene that unfolded before them. This man had just murdered another and now he was going to be killed.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Another drunken man across the room asked. The boy below had started to slide out from under the building. He almost lost his life there, he was lucky that blade hadn't pierced his head! That was all he needed to know to get out of there.

"Me? Who do I think I am? Well, since you're all about to die, I guess I'll tell you. My name, is Kensei Muguruma." He said his name, and the mud suddenly felt warm to the boy. His body became void of all warmth with the name that was spoken loud enough for him to hear. It was as if that name itself was a curse to anyone who'd heard it. But that couldn't be true, because if it were, he'd be on this man's dead list too. Because he'd heard the name, he'd even seen partially what the man looked like. No one ever gotten a face with the name he'd just heard and lived to describe it!

Once he slid completely out of the underside of the tavern, the child ran. He ran as fast as his feet would take him. As far as they could in the cold mud, in the stinging rain. He had only got away from the scene by the good graces of the man. But that's when he realized. If that man was really Kensei, that'd mean that he didn't _miss_ the boy when he'd stabbed the other man through the chest. That'd mean he was aiming there, he aimed it in front of the child's face as to scare him. And it worked.

This boy, the one running through the mud as fast as he could, he knew better than to mess with a Visord. But this man, he wasn't just any Visord, he was the strongest. He was known to use naught but his own fists to take care of the job, or at most, he used a dagger. But this time there was a zanpakuto the man that usually only wielded a dagger, now had a zanpakuto, a an old blade that was embedded with magic that only can be wielded by Visords, or Hollows. Of course there are the few zanpakuto that could change shape too. Just thinking about it seemed too crazy. The man was a Visord, so it wasn't unlikely that he'd carry such a weapon.

As he ran, the boy felt his toes becoming numb and void of feeling from the cold of the mud beneath his feet. As he stumbled, he tried his best to keep moving, to keep running away from the horrific scene. He had to get home, back to where he stayed with the other children. He had only gotten a three coppers, only enough to feed one really. He knew that he wouldn't eat this night, he had to feed Rukia, if any it had to be her, the youngest of the three of them.

His feet didn't listen to him, the wet ground making them go numb and tumble out from under him. He fell face first into the mud, sliding a little down the path, he crunched himself into a ball, holding his legs with a shiver of cold going through him. He had slipped and slashed his leg a little. He felt the cold sting of the air on the wound. Crying out in pain just so softly, he refused to shed a tear. He didn't want to waste those he had left, they might have been the only means to sleep at night.

"Oh dear, are you alright?" Someone had asked. He bit his lip as to keep the tears at bay as he looked up to see a woman standing under an umbrella. She had tan skin, and long dark hair. But her clothes spoke as though she were a noble.

He tried to stand, to scramble out of there, but he slipped again. Smacking into the mud, he made a splash in the liquid ground, and a drop of it splashed up into the face of the woman. Splashing just a tad on her cheek just under her eye, she didn't even blink. Holding a serious look on her face, she tilted her head to the side to see the boy a little better.

"Hey kid, are you alright?" She asked, kneeling just slightly as to not get mud on her thin dress. The sleek material was obviously silk, holding a crimson color, it showed her cleavage just enough to say that she was a woman of standards, but who held great power over men.

The boy looked to her, not saying a word, he wasn't sure what to say. But his hand shot to the cut on his leg that was now covered in mud. Holding the wound, he looked with an apprehensive look on his features. His golden brown eyes not swaying from her, he watched as she pulled a clean white handkerchief that held the initials Y.S. in red cursive writing. Of course, the boy didn't know what the letters meant, not being able to read. But his eyes never left her own. His hands didn't move from holding his leg, and his form was still rigid against the thought of taking on the thought of accepting the offer from the woman.

It was so much like nobles to offer something but then turn around and force you to be a slave for them because they '_saved your life' _once upon a time. As he stared her down, he watched as she then reached down, taking it upon herself to wrap the cloth around his leg. "If you don't get it cleaned soon, it'll get infected. Please. Let me help you, I know a little shop that'll clean it up and you'll be on your way." She said.

Eyes widening, he knew it. She was trying to get him to go with her so that she could act like she was going to save him then she'd put him to slave labor and make him work off his debt for the rest of his life!

Scrambling to his feet, he bared his teeth through the pain in his leg and took off through the mud once again. His foot steps were sloppy but he held a steady run. He was the fastest of his friends, so he knew that he'd be able to out run her. But he wasn't going to look back to see if she was giving chase.  
>The rain that stung his face was not running a little harder from the sky. The cloud clapped with thunder which made him almost jump right out of his skin. He didn't think anything of it, thinking only of getting back to his friends, he knew that he was only a few good minutes away from their little hut.<p>

And with those minutes, he slammed his body through the straw doorway. It swung under the pressure of his form and moved out of his way, allowing him to tumble to the floor. It was late, really late. He knew that he'd missed the bakery with how he'd cut his leg, so he just ran straight home. Feeling guilty and horrid for having missed the only chance he had to feed the smallest of them, he moved across to his straw mat that laid on the floor. Laying next to it, was a little girl with dark hair. Her eyes covered with a wrap due to her blindness. On the opposite side of her, a sleeping boy with bright red hair.

The two of them seemed so peaceful when they slept, much nicer than when it was day time. When people were in pain, hungry, and dying. Feeling tears well up in his eyes, the boy laid on his mat, his back to the door, facing the little girl that was in front of him. Shutting his eyes tight, he let a few of the tears fall, he hurt. The way that they lived, it was unfair. The pain in his leg, it was disgusting. The way they had to suffer, it was wrong. There were things wrong left and right, and there was nothing that he could do about it.

"Shiro?" Came a soft voice. His tears ceased from it. Eyes shooting open, he looked to the girl in front of him. "Shiro what's wrong? Did you get something to eat? Renji had brought some food home today, so we ate. Did you?" She asked.

Renji, that boy was always trustworthy. Smiling, he nodded, forgetting for a moment that she can't see him, he chuckled, "Yeah, I got something to eat." He lied. He didn't want to worry her, or Renji. But he knew that the boy would be harder to convince than the girl that was in front of him.

Little did he know, said boy was awake, listening to the whole conversation. He knew by the "joy" of his friend's voice that Shirosaki had not actually gotten anything to eat, and that he was also crying. He didn't even need to look at the kid to see that. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes again, trying to let the two of them have their privacy. Despite their little hut being not but seven feet wall-to-wall, and five feet high.

But with their small six year old bodies, the boys didn't need to worry about bumping their heads just yet, and the little four year old girl they lived with was less likely.

"That's good. You need to eat to keep up your strength." The girl whispered to the orange haired male. The smile that was on her face was genuinely happy about what he'd lied about. And that made him feel even worse.

Sighing, he closed his eyes, trying to let sleep come over him. He knew now that he didn't need to worry as Renji always came through with taking care of her. He didn't always need to try so hard. And with that, he was swept away in dreams that he wouldn't remember, but it was as though he had forgotten what reality was then.

**So what did y'all think? Yeah I know, I said it was short, and I meant it. But hey, at least you see something as to what's going on in their lives so far. And yes, Shirosaki has orange hair in this one. But there's seriously a good reason for everything I'm doing! I promise I promise I promise! If your wondering about Grimmjow, because yes, I know I tagged him in this, then you'll have to wait for the later chapters to see him. I'm sorry, please don't get mad or kill me! Thanks for your time, can't wait to post another chapter! Gonna start on it now!**


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all for the support in my other story "6 Cups of Hot Chocolate" I'm so glad that people liked it so much! It helped me want to write more and more. So here I am, writing this story, I hope y'all like it as much as you liked the other story. And yes, I KNOW I tagged Ichigo in the story, and not Shirosaki/Dark Ichigo. Yes I know, because that in it of itself, is part of the main plot….hehehehehehehehe…..

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"Shiro run!" Renji called as his hair was being torn from his scalp. The large hand that gripped him belonged to a large boy who lived in the warrens with the other orphans. The grin on his face showed that he'd obviously been enjoying himself.

"Awe what's wrong Shiro? You not going to help your idiot friend here? He owes me dues, and he hasn't paid up yet." He boy said as he leaned closer to Renji's face. The smirk only growing on his lips.

With the somber expression on his face, he looked from Renji to Rukia, who sat on the ground behind Yammy, the large boy that was currently holding his friend by the hair. The boy before him wasn't one would want to pick a fight with; he'd even beaten up a few adults!

"Now that I think about it, you owe me dues too don't you, ya damned rat!" He said as he started toward Shiro, dragging the other behind him along the ground.

The fear in Shirosaki's eyes showed that he was truly terrified, but not only for himself. But for his friends as well. He knew that Yammy had it out for him and wasn't too surprised to see the boy go for his friends to get to him. Between the two, Shiro and Yammy, the children of the warrens were split. Some following Shiro's lead with trying to survive. Others followed Yammy with the path of bullying others to get what they wanted. Of course, there were more followers for Yammy than there were for Shirosaki.

But that was to be expected. When someone had power, people followed. But that's also why there were people behind Shirosaki. He had the strength to hold himself up, and so far he'd been able to keep his two friends up too. Until now anyway.

"Shiro run!" He heard that kind soft voice call out. "Don't worry about us, we'll be fine!" That was a lie, Rukia was lying. She couldn't lie, not even to herself. It was obvious that not even she believed it.

"You'll be fine will you?" Yammy asked as he turned back to her, dragging Renji who was still screaming and kicking the whole way. "And who said that?" He added. With his left hand tangled in the red strands, his right hand moved quickly to grip the black of the girl's hair.

"Leave her alone! You're pathetic, picking on a little blind girl!" Shiro screamed, his hands outstretched to his sides, clenched into fists with his eyes shut tight. "Your fight is with me!" He added.

When those golden brown eyes had finally opened, he looked right into the middle of the boy's chest. The guy was at least ten years old, and was standing already at five-foot, five-inches if anything. Looking up to see Yammy's face, he froze in fear now.

"So my fight is with you is it?" He asked, if the grin on his face was any bigger, Shiro was sure that it'd split him in half.

The large hand that once held Renji by the hair now had a fist-full of the orange haired boy's dirty rugged tunic. Lifting him off the ground, Shiro felt his feet take flight by the force he was picked up. But when his feet were coming back down to earth, he felt the other fist land square in his gut, ripping through him and lifting him farther from the ground than before.

Having the air leave his lungs, Shiro collapsed around the fist that was lifting him. Only to be thrown back onto the ground. "Ha! You're pathetic, I'm sure that little wimp behind me can even take more punches than you!" The larger of the two laughed as he turned toward the golden eyed child's friends.

"L-leave them alone!" Shirosaki screamed as he pulled himself up into a sitting position.

"Shiro stop this and run! He's only trying to beat you up!" Renji screamed as he was taken back by the hair from Yammy.

But Renji's words fell on deaf ears when Shiro saw the knife that the brawly child had pulled out. As he watched the blade rip through the red-head's tunic, he stumbled to his feet, still trying to catch his breath. "I said leave them alone!" He screamed again, this time getting Yammy's attention again.

As the larger of the two pulled the knife away from his friend's flesh, he grinned that nasty grin. That choleric smile of his was always something that sent chills down Shiro's body. It always scared him to no end, having to see that smile every day as he would try and survive the onslaught of having to watch this boy beat down anyone who didn't give him their dues, fifteen coppers per person, every week.

"What are you going to do if I don't?" The larger of the two questioned, that malicious smile ever-so present.

To be honest, Shirosaki didn't know what he was going to do. Maybe scream some more, maybe attack the elder child? In truth, he was afraid of both ideas. He was scared for Renji, but he was also afraid of being in the red-heads place.

"Shiro, don't be an idiot, just run god dammit!" Renji screamed, snapping Shirosaki out of the light trance that he was in only to see that Yammy was only a few feet from him by now. Thinking quickly, he burst out into a run, but it wasn't in the opposite direction. He bolted toward Yammy, surprising everyone, even himself.

His mind wasn't thinking about fighting the other, nor was his body for that moment. He made a B-line around him as quickly as he could. If there was one thing he was known for was that he could run, and run fast at that.

As he moved, Yammy reached out for him, but to no avail did he catch him. Everyone watched as the orange haired boy lifted off the ground in a jump, and landed his knee in the cheek of the boy who held onto Rukia's hair, causing him to release her. Then he moved quickly, sliding through the third boy's legs before he could grab them.

As he raced back to the blind girl, he grabbed hold of Renji's arm and yanked him to his feet in a mad sprint out of there. Scooping the girl up into his arms, he led Renji away from the larger boys.

"You idiot, that was stupid and dangerous!" Renji screamed as they moved away. They all knew that none of the larger boys would be able to catch them, even if they were moving a little slower than usual because of Rukia.

"But it got us out of there and none of us really got hurt." Shiro said with a laugh, of course he knew it was dangerous and stupid. But that's just something he had to do for his friends. He glanced over to his red headed friend who's crimson color was locked up in a ponytail with a piece of cloth he'd torn from his tunic years ago.

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Sitting down by the river, Shirosaki watched as the murky water ran along. It wasn't a large river, maybe ten feet across. Nor was it deep. But everyone knew that if you jumped in, you'd get stuck because of the clay base that it had. The water made it so soft that a little weight, and you were sinking into the clay.

Of course the pottery companies always made it big with this sort of thing. But that was a difficult job, even to get the clay.

Tossing a pebble into the moving water, he watched the ripples move down stream.

"What're you doing?" The most familiar voice asked. Turning to see his red haired friend, Shiro smiled.

"I was just sitting here, watching the river." The little orangette answered.

"Oh? And what are you thinking about in that smart brain of your's?" He asked before sitting next to his friend.

"I'm not really thinking about anything. I was just letting everything be as it is for a moment. Just a nice little piece of paradise. If you know what I mean." He answered, and in truth, that's exactly what he was doing. He let everything be to take a moment and look out at the world, looking at it not from an orphan's point of view. But as a person's.

"Well that's a good idea every now and again. But we both need to get a move on if you really want to eat. I don't think looking out at that gross water is going to feed anyone." Renji said before nudging his friend in the shoulder and standing. With an outstretched hand toward Shirosaki, he grinned wildly. "Besides, Rukia is here with us, we already have our paradise!" He added.

Laughing, Shiro took his friend's hand and lifted himself up with the pull. The two stood there for a moment, hand-in-hand grinning at one another. "Well then let's go eat!" Shiro laughed as he pulled his friend along.

The two raced back to their little hut, laughing and tossing sticks and stones trying to trip the other as they tried to get there first.

It was Shirosaki who was the victor, having burst through the little hut's doorway, he stood in pose of his triumph. With Renji following close behind, out of breath and laughing. "Geez Shiro, you're faster than ever when you're trying to beat me! Wish you could run like that when you're running for your life!" The red headed boy laughed. The two snickered and giggled with one another as the blind girl that sat a little ways away sat with one of the biggest smiles on her lips.

"Another race lost bubba?" Little Rukia spoke softly, her word for Renji was 'Bubba' which was her way of saying brother. Of course they weren't actually related, but it felt like the three of them were siblings.

"Yeah, Shiro cheated!" Renji pouted as he moved over to the girl and sat next to her, explaining the race that they just had.

"Well, I'm gonna go find some coppers for food." The orange haired child said as he moved out the hut, his only response was a nod from both children, although they were still talking, they would always acknowledge his words, even if they didn't actually hear what he said.

Looking out toward the sky, he grinned before running off toward the warrens. The sky was beautiful, and the day felt lucky. It felt like everything was perfect. But as he ran off, he didn't notice the eyes that watched him, and the ears that heard the laughter inside the hut.

It didn't take him long before he got into the small parts of the warrens that the adults lived in. Usually there were no nobles around, but it seemed like part of the town was in a commotion. It was strange because there were people everywhere. But they were all crowded around the tavern.

Raising a brow, and with utter curiosity, Shiro moved toward the crowd. He wasn't really able to look to see what happened. Trying his best to look around the crowd, he tried to jump to see, and even attempted to crawl through their legs, only to fail time and time again.

Just before giving up, he felt hands on his waist, lifting him up and placing him on strong shoulders, he looked down in surprise to see a friend of his.

With the biggest smile, and his hands running through the messy black locks, he giggled, "Thanks Isshin." He said before looking out to the scene.

Isshin Shiba, the man wasn't by any means wealthy, nor powerful. He was just a kind man that always tried his best to look out for Shirosaki, Renji, and Rukia the best he could. The man was practically their father. Although they didn't live with him or even did what he said when he had 'extra' food. They knew that he always tried to feed them before eating himself.

Seeing a large group of town guards moving in and out of the tavern, the orange haired child raised a brow and looked to the man who's shoulders he sat, "What happened here?" He asked with concern.

"They found the whole tavern filled with men, they were all murdered." He said, worried.

When he heard that, Shiro's whole night of being under the building looking for coppers came back to him. He had forgotten what happened that night till now. But hearing this, he struggled a little to get down from Isshin's shoulders. "I gotta go. Sorry Isshin." He said as he was finally placed on the ground.

"Why won't you guys ever call me papa?" He asked with a frown.

"As if you old man!" The child laughed, although it was hollow, and ran off. He had to get away from that place, he didn't like it. He almost lost his own life there, and he didn't want to have anything to do with it.

As he got a few buildings down, he turned into a back alley way. Stopping, out of breath, he placed both hands on the wall to his side to hold himself up as he tried to catch his breath. Thinking back to the night, remembering the zanpakuto that almost ran him through, the blade that was covered in blood.

He couldn't even imagine the pain that blade would bring to people. Feeling his stomach churn, he kneeled down as his stomach emptied it's contents of water and stomach acids into the mud that was at his feet. It wasn't usual for him to throw up, but the thought of the blood and that blade just made it happen.

With a shudder, he pulled himself up, and just before walking out of the alley way, he stopped. The feeling of being watched finally hit him. Turning as quickly as he could, he saw a form standing at the end of the alley way. It was a hooded figure.

"It seems my deeds from that night have rob you of something to eat." The man said. Stumbling back, Shiro yelped as he tripped and splashed down into a puddle of mud. Groaning, he rubbed his backside. But when he finally looked up, the man was gone.

Sitting in front of him just a few feet away was a little pouch. A leather bag. Tilting his head to the side, he leaned out of the alley to look in both directions, no one.

Crawling over to the pouch, he picked it up and opened it. Utter shock, horror, and gratitude hit him. Inside were at least twenty silvers. It was the most money that he'd ever seen in one place. One silver was equivalent to five coppers. He could eat for almost the year with this amount of money.

He had to check it again, then checked the streets again. Looking back and forth, he grinned to himself before tying the pouch to his waistband and ran out of the alley. He wanted to get to the bakery before it was closed.

Boy wouldn't Renji and Rukia be so surprised. They could ALL eat tonight!

As he burst through the door to the bakery, he grinned at the woman behind the counter; Unohana turned to see who had burst in so suddenly, and upon seeing the boy, smiled happily.

"Someone's come to get something to eat I see? I'm sorry I can't make the prices any cheaper than three coppers, you know I need to survive too." She said with a sad smile.

The boy still held the biggest smile she'd ever seen on him, "That's okay. Three loaves please." He said much to her surprise.

He then went ahead and placed two silvers on the counter. She looked them over before looking at the boy, "I hope who ever you got these from won't be missing out on anything." She said with mild concern for the boy's well-being. She liked him, but she wasn't going out of her way to protect anyone.

"I don't think he will, someone gave them to me!" He said with a giggle. Seeing the still worried smile on her face, he only grinned wider. He was telling the truth after all.

Finally, she took them and returned one copper for the change as she went ahead and bagged up three loaves of bread. She always threw in a water bottle for the boy for free. It was the least she could do as she still always wanted to help.

As he took the bag, he waved her goodbye and rushed through the door. He had to get back to his friends and tell them such wonderful news! He just had to see the looks on their faces as he would show them the food. But he thought it best not to let them know about the silvers.

If he let them know, they might want to spend them on too much, or might accidentally say something to someone and word would get to the older boys, who would of course expect something out of it.

He loved the two of his friends with all his being, but Renji had a big mouth, and Rukia never really knew who was around her because of her eyes.

As the sun was cut in half by the horizon, Shirosaki finally got in view of the hut. "Renji! Rukia!" He screamed with joy. "I got some food for us!" He added as he finally burst through the hut's door frame.

But what he saw wasn't what he expected. The bag in his hand dropped to the ground, the water bottle that was inside slid out and popped open, pouring water on the dirt floor. In the middle of their little hut, laid Renji.

Red covered his form, his bare chest was shown and covered in blood. His red hair toss about in a messy way over the floor, and his eyes close.

"R-renji?" Shirosaki asked, inching closer to see him a little better.

Finally, he rushed to his friend's side, "Renji! No, wake up! I got food see? You can't do this to me!" He screamed, shaking the boy, he could feel the tears well up and automatically pour out.

"Renji!"

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WELL NOW! Sorry to leave it at this, but I figured why not right? Seems like a good spot to leave off. Let y'all think on what happened. Though I think it's pretty obvious! Can't wait to hear what you think, nor can I wait to write the next chapter, but alas, I must go to work. So I bid you, a due.


	3. Chapter 3

**Yay! Chapter three is complete! I even got myself a Beta for the first time! So obviously a whole bunch of credit goes to AiryAquarius!**

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"Don't do this to me Ren, please don't do this!" The small boy screamed at the limp body that now lay in his bloody embrace. He held onto the boy, crying against his chest. His grip tightening, he just about keeled over right there.

But then a whisper, it was faint, but there.

"Don't cry Shiro. Remember what I told you. I told you to run, so run now. Run as fast as you can, faster than me, faster," He coughed, trying his best to stay conscious, "faster than the wind." He finished before another cough. The boy was weak, but still here.

"Renji?!" Shirosaki called, holding even tighter now. He knew that he had to listen to Renji, he had to run. Standing with the boy in his arms, he wasn't going to leave him behind. He wasn't that person. He would rather die alongside him than lose him here.

He ran faster than usual, as fast as his feet could possibly take him. He wasn't sure where to go, but he knew of only one place that he could go. And within moments, he was once again standing in front of the bakery. He banged on the locked door with his foot, hoping that Unohana was still there. She was now his only hope.

Kick after kick, he banged on the door. A light turned on inside, and hope lit up in his whole body. When the woman came to the door, she peeked out and saw the boys. Renji's bloody body that lay in Shirosaki's arms while he was huffing and puffing, trying to catch his breath. The two of them were quite a sight to see, and quite a mess the both of them. Shifting the weight of the red haired boy in his arms, the orange topped boy's legs showed how he was struggling to hold himself up with the other in his arms. Without even saying a word, she unhooked the chain lock that hindered the door as quickly as she could. The door swung wide and she was already moving across the room toward a wooden table that held a white cloth that covered the table.

It was her usual Nurse station, though she didn't offer it to many. When she yanked the cloth off the table, the baskets that lay on it nearly flew across the room. She rushed into a back room, and not even a full minute later, she returned with a black leather doctor's bag.

"Lay him on the table and step back. Whatever I say, do it alright?" She said as she hurried her hands with pulling out tools and cleaning supplies.

He nodded and put the boy on the table before going to her side. If he were still alive by her age, then he thought for sure that he'd be doing this exact thing. He'd be saving people's lives as a doctor. It just felt right.

"Go find Isshin, he should be around the tavern. Go now." She demanded as she started to clean the boy of the blood that was still pouring out of him. "Shit, he's lost so much blood." She said softly, trying not to alarm the boy who was now rushing out the door to find the man.

He didn't question why she needed the elder man, because he knew that the guy used to be a part of the military medical corp. But that was years ago, he always said he left because it was counterproductive, healing people so they could go kill others? Or something like that.

As he ran round and round, he finally decided to stop. Right in the middle of the street, he clenched his fists and threw them to his sides, "Isshin you old bastard where are you!?" He yelled at the top of his lungs. Hearing a rattle to the right rear of him, he whipped around to see the man half asleep next to a barrel. He always seemed to find a way to get alcohol, but no food. No one ever knew how or why.

"Huh? Oh hey Lil-Shiro!" He said in his drunken stupor. Shirosaki knew that that nickname was for one of the older man's medical subordinates from the military, Toshiro or something like that. "What's up little man?" He asked as he tried to pull himself together, stumbling a little.

"Renji. It's Renji." He said in a weak tone that was mixed with fear and worry.

At the name, the drunken man seemed to sober instantly. His form edged, and his body rigid, he looked at the young boy now. He could finally focus his eyes, and saw the blood. "Where is he now?" He asked, already following the boy.

"He's with Unohana." Shiro explained as he started to run back toward the bakery where he'd left his friend.

"And what about Rukia?" The old man questioned now as his feet were finally working correctly and he was able to keep pace with the young man.

But with that question, Shirosaki stopped dead. His features were solemn at best, almost lost. "I don't…know." He answered quietly. In all reality, he didn't even think about where the girl was. He wasn't even sure that he'd be able to find her. She had been with Renji after all, and he was dying at this very moment. So there really was no telling where the poor girl was.

"I have to…I have to find her!" He said, horror now written all over his features. He was terrified to think of what possibly could have happened to her. Seeing his best friend like this, the thought of the same for the little girl, he just couldn't bear it.

"I'll come too." The man said as he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder in reassurance. But it was shrugged off, and a glare was shot at him from the young cold eyes that belied the child's age. It seemed as though the child had already grown into a man.

"You will not. You are going to go and help Renji. I will find her, it's my duty!" He said, and with that, he was gone.

Running through the slightly muddy earth, his feet moved as fast as they could back toward their hut. He thought for sure that if she was around anywhere, it'd be around there. She never really went too far from the small place, and she always seemed to find her way back, even without the two of them helping her whenever she got lost.

Padding his way there, he could see the outline of the hut against the dark of the night sky now. He felt ill just remembering the beautiful sight that he'd seen, just before walking into the horror of the scene thought even he just couldn't perceive as his own home. He thought for sure that someone had just come and killed him right there at the moment he'd seen it.

As he was nearing the small building he started to slow as he noticed that the doorway was opening up, letting someone come from the small contents of their home. For a moment he felt relief as he thought Rukia was safe. But then something was off, the form was tall; much too tall, and muscular.

He got closer and closer, each step pulling him even farther into grief as he soon came to realize that it was most definitely not Rukia, but it was Yammy. The larger boy turned to see Shirosaki stop dead in his tracks.

"Ah Little Shirosaki, there you are. I've been looking for you for a few hours now." The larger of the two said with his features twisting into the monster that Shiro always assumed that he was. A monster that was in a human child's body. He was just a twisted kid, fucked up for sure. "I was hoping to teach you a lesson, but then your little red headed fairy of a friend wouldn't tell me where you were, so I taught him a lesson instead." He said with a shrug.

"It was you?!" Shiro screamed, rage building much faster than the fear of realizing that the boy in front of him was much bigger, and much stronger than he. "You are so fucked, I'm going to kick your ass!" Shirosaki yelled, running at the boy, holding a closed fist in the air.

But he was knocked back from the force of a punch that landed to his stomach. He could feel a bit of vomit come back up from the force. It was a feeling that he was getting rather familiar with now.

Again and again, punch after punch, he was thrown farther and farther back. When he lay on the ground, his body ached and his mind was weeping. But his will tried to force him up, and as he struggled to his feet, a well-placed kick on his shoulder sent him face first into the dirt.

"Now it's your turn, and after you I think I'm gonna go find that little Rukia. She always seemed nice, maybe I'll let her in on the fun of being an adult!" He laughed as Shiro heard the rip of metal, and he knew that it was the same knife that he had used on Renji.

"Stop, please stop." He now begged, It was completely out of character, but what else could he do?

He felt the other boy's knee on his lower back, and felt the tinge of a pointed object against his back. Horror ripped through him as he knew that now, he was going to die. He was going to be stabbed in the back, literally, by the one boy that he feared most.

"No, stop no!" He screamed as he struggled and thrashed about. Not realizing how bad of an idea that was, he thrashed so much, that the blade was forced down. And then he felt the pain. That excruciating pain, it went into his flesh, and tore through the muscle. He wasn't sure how deep it went, but as it dug into his form, he stopped moving.

Gasping for breath, he thought maybe the boy had punctured a lung; he'd hoped it wouldn't be too slow a death. Each gasp was painful, coarse, and stung like a horribly misplaced shot. He was suffocating

As he felt the blade being pulled back, he heard the other curse under his breath, "Dammit Shirosaki, all your squirming made me push too far." He groaned before shaking his head and throwing the knife as far as he could from their direction. It went to the other side of the hut.

Feeling the weight that was on his back lift, he knew the boy was going to just leave him like this. Like he had with Renji. Renji, he probably wasn't going to survive. He'd get to see his red headed friend on the other side then. And Rukia, no matter where she was, without the two of them, she wouldn't survive long.

He felt horrible, not for being unable to find her, but for dying like this. Being unable to stay with her and protect her forever.

Hearing the footsteps moving away from him, he felt all hope draining as the air in his lungs did as well. He was right, the boy had punctured his lung, and now all the air he was taking in, was seeping out.

Every gasp he took was just another step toward the cold embrace that he was now welcoming to remove the pain that was in his body. He didn't move, he couldn't really. His small body didn't know what to do about this. He couldn't run, so he'd never make it to Unohana and Isshin before he'd pass.

But just as he was going to welcome it, he felt pain shoot through his back again, in the same place as where he'd been stabbed. His eyes shot open, wider then ever. His head couldn't move, but his eyes looked to the side to where he could see what was going on. And standing over him was one of the other boys that always used to watch him. This kid used to follow him like a lot of the other children in the warrens.

"Shu-" He gasped, but couldn't speak any more than the syllable.

"Shut up and try not to move around too much." The boy said, the scars on his own face were thanks to a rabid animal that once attacked him. His black hair was almost as dark as the night sky; the moon was the only thing that gave any of his features away for Shirosaki to see.

He felt the older boy's arms come under him. Shocked that there was someone around, he couldn't speak, but the question was on his face. "I'm going to help you, but only because someone asked me to." He said as he carried the boy down the dirt road. "I put the knife back into your wound; it'll slow down your suffocation, as long as you don't try to breathe too quickly." He said in a calm voice.

The boy was a weird one. He was hardly ever around, and when he was, it was like he was just watching everyone like a hawk. Everything he did since the day the animal attacked was edgy; no one even knew how he had survived with only a scar on his face.

Listening to his instructions though, he didn't know what else to do. Even if he was a weird one, he wouldn't ignore someone's instructions that meant the difference of life and death. That was just stupid. Sure it hurt, it hurt like hell, but he was still barely able to breathe.

The weightlessness that was present in the boy's body as he lay in the other child's arms made him feel as though he were flying. It was strange because whenever he looked to the sky to see a bird fly by, he'd always wonder what it would be like to be up there with them, to be in the sky, looking down at the city and all the people that were below.

But that was the last feeling that he had before his mind shut down from lack of oxygen. The feeling of flying was gone, the feeling of pain, the feeling of death. It was all gone, everything was black.

But then, there was pain. But if there was pain, that'd mean there was life.

Shirosaki's eyes shot open fast. His breathing rigid, grasping for as much oxygen that he could gather up. It was like he was starving, and the only food around was the air itself. With the air that filled him, his form shot up into a sitting position, only to be pushed back onto the table that he'd laid on.

Frantic with his mind still in wonder as to what was going on; in a frenzy to capture all the air that once didn't fill his lung, his body struggled to move as wraps tied his sides. He wiggled in the hands that held him down, but who was holding him down, who in the world was around?

His vision was a blur for a few more minutes as he struggled to be freed, but was halted when he'd heard a voice he'd once heard before, but couldn't remember from where. "Calm down child!" A woman said.

With his heart beating fast for how a child's should be. He struggled to keep his breathing level, but turned out to be a failure at such as his form grasped for all the air in the world. He still felt the pain of suffocation.

His mind raced, who was this person? Where was he? What happened? What was going on? Where was Renji?

Renji, that's when his mind flooded with the red images, the red that was the same color as his friend's hair, his best friend was killed. He tried to save him, but he knew that the boy wouldn't have made it. Even with doctors as the two that he'd brought him to. There was just no way that the boy was going to survive.

"Renji…" He said aloud as he turned round to his left, then his right, as his vision started to clear.

"Is that your name?" The woman's voice asked.

As his sight came clear, he looked to the woman to see who she was. That was when he found that he had heard that voice before. He'd met this woman before. It was the woman from the night before, the one that he'd run into in that muddy street. The one with the initials of Y.S.

He could see her clearly now that he was inside a room that was lit and not in a street in the middle of the night. She had dark skin, and purple hair. But just by looking at her, one could tell she was of Shihoin origin, probably from the country Gotai. It was the country to the far south of Karakura.

With his breathing still heavy, he was beginning to settle down as he noticed the woman was just simply sitting there with her hands on the boy's shoulders to hold his once raging body still from the tantrum. But the features on her face told him that other than to be sure he was okay, she had no intent of touching him again.

"It's my friend's name." He whispered finally as he'd remembered the woman's question only from moments ago. "Sorry, was my friend's name." He corrected, feeling the grief wash over him.

"I see, well my condolences. But as for you, what is your name?" She asked, tilting her head as her hands finally released his trembling body.

"My name is Shirosaki." He said finally. But that was it, no sir name. It meant that he didn't know who his family was.

"Shirosaki huh? Would you mind if I called you Shiro?" She asked; getting the response of the shake of his head. "Well then little Mr. Shiro, my name is Yoruichi Shihoin. I have a friend here who saved your life." She said with a slight glance to the opposite side of the boy who was now only sitting on the table.

The child's eyes followed in suit, landing on a face that made his skin turn to ice and his heart race once again. The white hair looked messy but clean, those brown eyes were cold and analytical, but it was the man's rigid body that set the child on high alert. He stood there, shoulders pronounced, back straight, head held high. It was like he was proud of something.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, little Soul Reaper." Kensei said.

"Why" The child stuttered on his words, and then just stopped speaking all together as he stood there in awe of the man who once almost killed him.

"Well, you're not really one of those miscreants now. Not any more at least." The Visord told him, "You are no longer one of those weak pitiful beings. You are no longer going to live in the slums, and you will no longer crawl around in the mud looking for coppers to feed you.

"No, now you are going to become something better. You're going to become someone great, someone loved, and someone so well known that you're going to be sitting right next to the kings of this country at the dinner table." The man told him. But he said all of this with vigor, and confidence. But of course the child he spoke to was one that just didn't understand what he meant by all of this. How was he going to be someone important enough to sit next to the king?

Before he could open his mouth again, he stopped when the man started to speak again, "But this is all going to happen, if you can do one thing for me." He added. It was now that Shirosaki knew exactly what he was going to have to do, it was there that he readied himself with the knowledge of what he was going to do, and already he was trying to hatch a plan to figure out how he was going to pull it off.

"You must kill the boy who did this to you." He said as he placed his finger on the child's back, where the wound was that almost took his life, the wound that was now stitched up because of this Visord.

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**I hope you all liked the chapter, give me a few notes on what you liked, disliked, loved, hated, screamed at, you know what I mean. Just give me some kind of feedback please? You know better than anyone that authors thrive on reviews so they can keep going to show people something that they'll all enjoy! And I'm sorry if you don't quite understand the meaning for any of this yet, but I promise as we get farther and farther into the story, you're going to understand everything!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I want you all to know, that I really can't make this story as great as it is without my Beta, AiryAquarius! They've been so helpful with it, and I love the way they Beta the story. Personally I couldn't ask for anyone better in my opinion.**

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><p>With weighted steps, the once small six year old boy had grown. It had been many years since he had been saved by the Visord and Madame Yoruichi. Of course at the time he didn't actually understand who she was. But little by little he learned more and more about her.<p>

He had passed Kensei's test for him, and he was now currently sitting in that exact same tavern that he used to crawl under to get coppers ten years ago. He looked around as he sat across from the boy who once saved him, Shuuhei. He hadn't really known at the time, but this boy was a prodigy in the art of assassination. He was apparently taken under the wing of Kensei when he was saved from that beast all those many years prior.

It was Kensei who saved him, and the man had put that once poor scared boy to the same test that he'd put this orange haired boy to.

"Ichigo, are you even paying attention?" He heard Shuuhei ask. The orange topped boy glanced up from his tankard.

"No I wasn't." He replied nonchalantly. Of course he wasn't, he rarely paid any attention to what this boy was telling him, mostly because he was always lost in thought. He went through rigorous training regimens daily to keep on his toes, and now they seemed to always be in his mind; he was currently assessing the whole population of the tavern, noting to himself who would have a weapon on them, who had the stomach to kill, and who would be killed before even realizing that they were dead.

That's right, Ichigo was no longer that once scared little Shirosaki. When he had killed Yammy, he became void of the emotions he held for the living people. In fact, he became void of all emotions period. There was no going back for him, and he knew that. He was now the perfect Visord; aside from the fact that he was not quite yet a full Visord.

"You dope. How am I supposed to be able to carry a normal conversation with you if you're not going to respond to anything I say?" Shuuhei had asked. The 18 year old boy that sat opposite of him had a point.

"Then maybe you shouldn't have a normal conversation with me. We both know that I can do this on my own." Ichigo stated as he stood from the table. "Besides, it's just about time that I get going. I do have a curfew after all." He stated as he tossed a silver on the table next to that same tankard that he'd held onto for the past hour, which was still full.

Leaving the building, he stepped down into the cold mud that he once had to crawl through. The cold nipped at his exposed neck, and he pulled at the collar of the large jacket that lay on his shoulders.

The boy he was now made his life look like a complete one-eighty. He had turned around from that little scared poor boy, and it was obvious from the look of him. But the biggest detail was that of the clothes he wore. The large over coat that he wore held fur around the neck and cuffs, that of a Siberian Tiger. It was a light colored coat; running down to his shins.

The coat hid the fine red tunic that he wore, and the silk black trousers under. Those black leather shoes that he wore were now riddled with mud, but it wouldn't matter once he was back at home.

He walked the streets that he used to run, walking passed the bakery that he would always run to, to get the bread for his friends and himself. He remembered having run there with Renji in his arms, the same red haired boy that he was told had died on the table. He was told by Yoruichi that the boy he had tried to save had passed when Unohana was operating.

Then he came around to where he had once always turned to go to the little hut that had once sat not but five yards from a river. That same river that he used to look out to every so often just to "see" how the world was. Of course he never realized how screwed up the world he lived in was until that night.

As he walked past the pathway to that small hut, he came up to where he started his life as Ichigo. Yes, this was the same boy that was almost murdered by Yammy, this was the same boy who ran to save his friend's life only to have that friend die later on the operating table. But he was no longer Shirosaki.

For when he had succeeded in the first job that Kensei had given him, he was rewarded with a new name. He was now known as Ichigo. A name that he really didn't think seemed fitting for a Visord. But then again, he had to agree that most people wouldn't think that someone with that name would be an assassin.

He was naught but a couple yards from cobblestone paths as he felt a presence approaching him. His form looked composed, but he was already ready for anything to happen. If it was someone trying to rob him, he'd easily be able to take him down. But if it was someone else well then-

"Excuse me mister?" He heard a voice. He turned around to see a small boy with a rough looking tunic, and some torn up trousers. The child's skin was almost purple with the cold. By the looks of him, he hadn't eaten in days it seemed, and that's what made Ichigo realize. This boy hadn't stopped him to try and attack, he was just a beggar. He looked merely five or six years old.

"Here." Ichigo said as he held out a small pouch. It was actually the same pouch that his master had once given him when he was a small child. But this time the contents contained something completely different. The child had taken the pouch with great thanks, but when he opened it, the surprise on his face was more than one could explain in words.

"Are you sure mister?" The child asked through his long blonde bangs. Ichigo couldn't see his eyes, but he knew that the child was hungry, cold, and in need of a good home. He couldn't provide the last of the three, so he'd at least try to provide the first two if anything.

"Go ahead, get some warm clothes and some food in your belly." He told him. Inside the bag wasn't coppers, or silvers, neither of those would be enough to get the child warm and full of food. So inside the bag was near twenty golds. And a single gold piece was equivalent to ten silvers; fifty coppers.

Seeing the smile on the face of the child, a slight smile tugged at his own lips. There were tears in the kid's eyes. Ichigo knelt down and placed his hand on the child's head. "Remember to keep warm in this time of year. You shouldn't hold back when it comes to keeping warm and sated. I know that living this way is larrikin, but someone once gave me this bag here with a bunch of silvers in it. I was just like you, scrounging for food. But now look at me." He said as he gestured toward the fancy and warm clothes that he wore. "He changed my life. And I already paid him back all the money he'd given me. So make me this promise." The boy was listening intently now.

"Promise me that you'll survive. Don't share the money with anyone, don't tell anyone about it. If you're taking care of friends, don't tell them where you got these things. Provide for them. But don't tell them about how much money you have. Then one day you'll grow up, you'll get strong. And when you do, I'm going to expect you to be able to pay me back for all the money that I've just given you." He said with a grin now stretching his face.

"I promise mister! Thank you!" He said before grinning just as big as the man before him. But before he turned, he hesitated for a moment. "Umm, excuse me sir?" He started but paused for a second. He seemed a little scared to ask whatever it was he was thinking. "How am I going to find you when I have the money and power to pay you back?"

There was a chuckle that came from the orange haired male that finally stood tall, "What's your name child?" He asked.

"My name? It's Yukio." He stated. Of course he didn't list a last name. That would mean he had a family if he had.

"Well Yukio. From now on, you go by Yukio Hans Vorarlberna. And I will find you in ten years. Don't forget that. Ten years from today. Remember my name, its Ichigo Kurosaki." He told him with a smirk.

The look on the child's face when he'd heard the new name he was to go by was made of pure joy. Because of Ichigo? No. Because of the child's will to live and beg for food, he got more than he believed possible. He got the money for food, for clothes. He got a name for himself. He got a future. And it was all because he was a child that was living like Ichigo had once done. But that's not all he got. He got a friend, and a promise to keep now. Which meant that he had something to strive for, and something to look forward to the future for.

"I promise that I'll pay everything back in ten years!" He said before turning and running away with the largest smile on his face. He was holding the bag close, and running in the direction of the bakery where Ichigo used to go as well.

With a sigh, his eyes tightened and his smile withered. The orange haired male started to move forward before stopping. He was only a few feet from the cobblestone path that he'd need to take to get home. But something lingered in his mind. Turning away from the path home, he moved silently and quickly; just as he was taught.

He was sticking to the shadows and moving faster than the eye could see thanks to Shunpo, a technique that was taught to him by Kensei. He was able to keep to the shadows and move in the blink of an eye. Using this ability he had made it to the roof on the opposite side of the street from the bakery. The same child he'd given those golds to stood at the doorway of Unohana's little building. He knocked frantically before the woman opened the door.

As he watched, he watched the woman's face. She smiled kindly to the child, and the child held out the bag. Obviously he was saying he wanted to buy some bread. The surprise on the woman's face from seeing so many golds was obvious. There was the same stern look on her face from when she'd scolded Shirosaki for theft of the silvers. But there was a sigh from her that was inaudible to the man that stood on the roof.

She threw her head back and looked up. That was the same time that their eyes locked with one another. There was no shock, no surprise in her features. It was only with that look that she realized what the boy she'd once given bread, with a cheap price to, had done. There was a sweet smile on her face before she turned to let the child in. When she glanced back toward the roof where Ichigo stood; he was gone. But the smile lingered on her lips.

It was only a few seconds, and a few steps with the Shunpo that got him back to where he'd been by the cobblestone path. He sighed and continued the rest of the way home in a lingering walk. He didn't really think about anything aside from the child he'd just met. He thought it silly that he'd given the boy a name.

But now that the child had a name, he had something to show that he was now a person. He was someone who was living, flesh and blood. He wasn't one of those nobodies that lived in the slums. Not anymore anyway, not with a name.

The orange topped boy made his way up the street, to the left and down that road. He was always paying attention to the shadows, always looking for the next target or the next threat. He had learned all of this, learned it through rigorous training and fighting for his life. Even out of the darkest shadow, there would be a glimmer off a blade that would catch his eye. He'd always be able to spot it coming before it even left the attacker's hand.

But not this night, this night, there was no attacker. It was just him in a barren street. Of course he never really had any enemies; he was never caught while he was working either. So it seemed almost boring to him to be walking this late at night.

Grumbling, he pulled his key from his breast pocket. Before shoving it into the lock of his door, he hesitated and listened. Thinking that he'd heard something, Ichigo reached around to his back to pull a small blade out. It was about the size of his forearm, with the handle at the back of the blade.

Opening his door as silently as he could, he stuck his ear in to listen. There were a few footsteps going around in the house. Two of them; there were two people, one was upstairs in the bedroom, and the other was in the living room. Using the technique that he'd demonstrated earlier, he moved through the shadows.

As he raised the blade behind one of the beings, he was about to swing before a hand grabbed his own. The shock of being caught before he could strike made his body tremble. Only one person was ever able to stop him before he could strike, and that was Kensei. But this hand that held his wrist was not Kensei.

Turning his head around, Ichigo didn't even react as he saw the form; his left hand was already in motion with the blade from his left side. But then that hand was caught too. By the first person that he'd tried to strike.

"Ichigo, I hope you didn't actually plan on killing either one of us." The voice of a woman spoke out. Hearing that voice he sighed in obvious irritation.

"Yoruichi. What the hell are you doing here?" He said as he tore his gaze from the figure that was still covered with shadows. "You know that breaking into someone's house is illegal, and breaking into a Visord's house is just plain stupid." He said before sheathing both blades back in their sheathes.

"I know that, but I had to come anyway." She said. He hadn't immediately realized that the other form had made its escape. Not just from the room, but from the house. "There's a job that needs to be taken care of." She told him with a stern look that he could only just make out. "And it's got to be done tonight."

Ichigo turned toward the window. It's not like he couldn't do it. But he really didn't want to was the real problem. He'd just gotten home, and wanted to sleep. "You've got a skilled bodyguard. To have him be able to sneak up on me and sneak out without my noticing. Why not have him kill your target, or maybe Shuhei or Kensei?" He asked. He was already taking off the over coat that he had on.

"This one isn't a normal job, it's…" She paused. She never pauses. "Private." She finished. The pause in her words made Ichigo hesitate on letting go of the coat that he was now hanging over the back of his chair that sat in the study.

Pulling the seat out, he sat down with his elbows on the redwood desk that stood in front of him. His hands laced together in front of his face as to hide his mouth. "And what do I get from doing this job of yours?" He asked. He was expecting the response of a lot of money, or maybe a favor of whatever he asked later on in the future. But he got something he never expected.

"I'll allow you to see someone that you haven't seen in quite a few years." She said.

This statement peaked his interest. Who had he not seen in a few years that would make him want to take a job without pay? He pondered this before speaking, "And who is this individual?" He asked. But she stood there with her arms crossed without a word spoken. She knew better than anyone that if he received a name that he would be able to find this person.

So she said nothing.

Sighing, he was now bothered by her silence. Although he wanted to tell her to get out of the house, this whole fiasco made him want to know more than anything now. Who was it that she could possibly give him a moment with that he would actually kill someone over? He couldn't think of anyone that he'd seen in the last few years that he even wanted to see again.

"Who am I killing?" He asked this nonchalantly as he pulled a pen and paper from the drawer of his desk.

"You're not killing someone. You're going to become someone's friend." She said. This type of request was out of the ordinary by far. Any job he'd ever taken on, he had murdered the target. But now he was to become friends with the target? That was just about unheard of!

"Why?" He asked as his eyes narrowed.

"This specific someone, is a big shot's son. He is actually the child of a Lord who dines with the king. I need someone to be able to gain the trust of the family, and get their way in. I need someone inside the castle by next winter." She explained this as if it were the easiest thing in the world. But this right here was asking an assassin to become friends with his target before he had to kill him. Or at least, it was similar to that since she said he wasn't supposed to kill him.

"Fine; I'll do as you ask. What is this Child Lord's name?" He began to write on the paper that he'd taken out, now addressing it to Kensei so that he could leave a message saying he took a job and wouldn't be able to help with any other jobs for a while.

"He's the son of Lord Sosuke Aizen. His name is Lord Grimmjow Jeagerjaques." She saw that Ichigo had stopped writing when he heard the names, "He is the adopted son of the Aizen family; and is the only child. So the sole heir to their legacy as well." She explained. He just nodded and continued to write.

"And where am I going to meet him?" He asked. Of course with the other male's name already, he would be surely able to find him.

"Wherever you deem fit, just make sure that you make it good." She told him before turning and walking out. "Oh, and Ichigo." She said his name to where he looked up from his books, "Don't kill the reward for this job." She said before turning and walking out of the house.

That statement sent him even more into confusion. His reward was that he would be able to see someone he hadn't seen in years! Who could he possibly want to kill for not seeing for years? The only thought that came to mind was Isshin. That old fool had disappeared for a few years now and hadn't returned. But he wouldn't take a job like this for that man. And Yoruichi knew that. So she obviously had someone else in mind.

But who?

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><p><strong>Who is it that you think is the reward for the job he's taking on? And why do you think that Yoruichi is having him do this job instead of going to Kensei or Shuuhei? Also, what's going on with that kid Yukio? Just a poor boy that Ichigo took pity on? Or is there some other intention stirring there? Tell me what you all think! I wanna know I wanna know! I wanna see how many people can take a gander at what is going on here? What is the real reason behind this job, and what's going to happen later?<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

As the guards wrangled with some filthy looking beggars, Ichigo stood off to the side of the market, just watching. He couldn't see a reason to step in. Grabbing an apple from one stall, he handed the merchant five coppers and turned to watch the scene.

Of course his eyes were really on a patch of blue hair that was standing at a stall talking with a woman with black hair. He couldn't see the woman's face, but if he had to guess he'd say she was no more than fifteen years of age. But that was by guessing due to height, weight, and hair length. Of course he could be wrong.

He watched as another woman, much older by the look of her face, went up to the girl. She spoke soft enough to where the orange haired boy couldn't hear. But the older one took the girl's arm gently before walking off as if she were leading her away. It looked strange, but that was usually how the market was; strange people everywhere.

As he simply watched the blue haired male wave goodbye to the raven child, Ichigo walked around to another fruit stall and picked up an orange. Leaving behind the four coppers to pay for it, he slipped it into his pocket before turning around.

He had a straight shot to the blue haired Child Lord. He smirked to himself before walking in his direction. With the look on the guy's face, it was obvious that he was upset about being blown off by the girl and the elder woman. "Hard thing to do heh?" Ichigo announced to him.

He stopped just a few feet in front of him, biting into his apple. Grimmjow looked around for a second to make sure there was no one else that this orange haired stranger could possibly be talking to. But he was the only one that held the orange's gaze.

The smirk on the guys face was cocky, "Naw, it ain't that tough. She was right in the palm o' my hand." He headed over to this newcomer that started up a conversation with him. Raising a brow, "That maid of hers though, right bitch that one. But the girl was a real beauty, aside from her not really looking at me. I swear it was like she didn't even notice I was there!" He said with a chuckle.

With an attempted kind expression on Ichigo's face, he wanted to be playing the part of an understanding bystander. "I bet you did have her there. Maybe if you had a little more class though." He said with a chuckle and a shake of his head before turning around as if he were going to walk away.

"Hey, I didn't get your name?" Grimmjow asked more than stated.

Turning his head back, the Visord smiled politely. "The name is Ichigo, Ichigo Kurosaki." He said.

"Ichigo huh? Cute name, mine is Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. Maybe we'll meet again, and we can talk more!" He started to speak up because of Ichigo's receding form. He got a wave from the sixteen year old before said boy turned the corner around a market stall and disappeared from sight.

"My Lord Jeagerjaques, please we need to get home before your father begins to worry." A pink haired boy who was be no older than himself stated. Grimmjow looked over to the boy and chuckled.

"I doubt he'd worry. I haven't been gone long. I bet he isn't even home yet himself." He said as he trotted along next to the other. The attires of the two were completely different. Grimmjow wore an overcoat that held Black Panther furs on the collar; under the black coat was a teal colored silk tunic with a neatly sewn crest of the Aizen family.

The other wore a black vest over a white blouse, the black bow-tie that was around his throat hid his branded mark of servitude. With silver chain that lead across his chest, he pulled out the light colored metal pocket watch from his breast pocket. "My lord, it is just about time for dinner." He said as he slid his watch back into his pocket before stepping up onto the coachman's step of the carriage. He turned back to the other man that was standing next to it.

This man wore the same attire, but was much shorter, and much paler. With his green eyes, he watched his Lord walking toward the carriage just before he opened the door for him and bowed respectfully. Closing the door behind him, this servant went ahead with the first onto the front of the carriage.

"Father doesn't care if I'm late or not. He hardly even notices when I'm around." Grimmjow huffed as he looked out the window toward the streets. People were passing by, heading in both directions. Some even waited for the carriage to pass before trying to cross the street.

That's when he saw the same girl that he was flirting with in the market, with the same maid. The girl's black dress was slim and beautifully fit to her body. It sparkled as if she were part of the royal family. But she was just nobility. He smiled as he watched from within the carriage that was passing by them, which was also when he saw the far off look in her blue colored eyes.

Tilting his head, he opened the carriage door just a bit to peak out to see her for a little longer as they passed. The maid wasn't pulling her away she was leading the poor girl. Seeing this, he realized why it seemed like she didn't care to look at him.

Coming back into the carriage, he chuckled to himself. "That's why she didn't look me in the eye when I was talking to her. She's blind." He whispered to himself needlessly.

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Sitting down finally in his study, Ichigo pulled the orange from his pocket before pulling a knife from the inside of his coat. "That was silly; maybe he'll see me again? Geez, at this rate I won't even have to try to be his friend and I'll get there." He told himself as he glanced toward the window.

"Well, if it's going to be that easy then why aren't you already having dinner at his place?" He heard a voice ask. He didn't so much as flinch at hearing the intruder, he just kept cutting the orange into pieces.

"Because I don't feel like going to the Aizen estate. I don't like Sosuke. And I don't want anything to do with him. But since I'm doing this anyway. Why not give me the name of your prize there huh?" He turned to see Yuroichi standing in the archway of his study.

She stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, almost as if she were in a daze. "You know Ichigo, if I didn't know any better, I'd guess that you didn't like me." She said to him as she turned her body toward him. He raised a brow as he watched her move. She was dressed in a white gown that went to her feet with a teal colored boa around her neck. Her heels were the same teal color.

"You're a Madam, why on earth would I want to be with someone such as yourself?" He asked as she seemingly tried to show off her cleavage.

"I may be a Madam, but I am not a whore." She said as she took a seat in front of his desk. Crossing her legs over, she pulled a piece of orange from the boy's hand and ate.

Giving her a look of irritation, he shook his head. "I don't care either way. I don't need trivial things such as that." He said before eating the rest of his orange.

Sliding the blade back into the holster in his coat, he pulled out a journal and grabbed the quill that sat next to where Lady Yuroichi was seated. Not paying the woman any mind, he started to write in the book with her looking on. He went into detail of what his mark was doing when he'd been watching.

The journal had the actions of every mark that he'd taken on before the job was fulfilled. And as he went on to explain in detail as to what happened, he sighed aloud, "Madam, if I may ask, how long am I supposed to be this Child Lord's friend?" He asked as he continued to write.

"Till I get what I need. And I'll tell you what that is as soon as I have it. After I have it, you can do whatever you deem fit to the poor fool." She said with a giggle as she knew that he already felt like killing the other male.

"Whatever I deem fit huh? If I deem it necessary I'm going to kill his father too." He commented as he struck the paper to put the period of the sentence he was writing. And with that he closed the book. "Leave now. I need to be alone." He said as he stood from his seat with the book in hand.

Standing as well, she bowed just a bit and put her hand over her chest as if she were showing respect to nobility. As she turned to walk out, she stopped and turned her head back to him, "Oh, and by the way. This little gift I'm giving you for your cooperation is someone you can keep. I don't need them anymore, so they're yours after I hand them over." She said before turning and walking out of the room.

"How like her, dumping her trash onto me." He said as he turned and placed the book on the shelf. Once he heard his front door click behind the lady leaving him, he grabbed hold of the candle holder that was attached to the wall next to the bookcase.

Pulling it down, he watched as the shelf moved downward into the floorboards to reveal a passageway of stairs leading downward into the ground below. Stepping into it, he pushed the candle holder that was inside the passageway upward into its original position which in turn set the first in the same position; then the passageway was sealed by the bookcase once again.

With the flick of his wrist, a match struck the stone walls and lit. He lit the closest candle to him before picking it up and talking it along to light the others down the pass. As he reached the bottom, he sighed to himself as he saw the dummy that sat in the middle of the room. It was well padded and stitched together from all the long beatings that he'd given it. But that wasn't all that was in the room.

In one corner of the room sat books on top of books that held recipes for a multitude of lethal poisons. While next to it was a mortar and pestle, alembic, retort, and multiple beakers and test tubes. Notes were scattered across the table in Ichigo's handwriting. A large doctor bag sat in the corner of the table with a number of toxic venoms, and plants. Some were already mixed poisons that Ichigo himself had created. But all of this help was not because of Kensei, it was all thanks to a skilled alchemist named Kurostuchi who had agreed to help Ichigo learn as long as he'd bring a test subject back every now and again.

Which always worked out perfectly when he needed a mark to disappear completely.

Next to the table stood a sword stand, holding various different types of blades; claymores, katanas, scimitars, a rapier, sabers, spears, sai, and even a scythe in the farthest corner. He was properly trained with every type of blade thanks to one of the many men that owed Kensei a favor; Nimaiya, a famous sword maker for the King's guard. It was because of that man that Ichigo became so used to wielding blades that he was almost better than Kensei himself.

He looked around the room before walking over to the weapons that filled his wall. Unsure of which he wanted to train with now, he smiled as he remembered a gift he was given by Nimaiya. A large black blade that looked similar to a Khyber knife with the handle extending farther than a usual one. It was wrapped in a white cloth.

As he revealed it for the first time, he grinned at it as he saw there was a hollowed out portion toward the back edge of the blade. As he held it, he swung it a couple times as he tried it out. He liked the weight and the durability of it already.

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Standing atop a roof, a masked figure watched as blue hair moved about the grounds of the Aizen Estate. The home itself was near 60 meters away from the metal and stone gates that lined the grounds.

The gravel that led from the gate went straight to the front doors, with tall bushy trees lining the path. The open grass fields that were on either side of the gravel path were well trimmed and jaded with velvet green. Despite the cold weather the gardeners of the grounds obviously took pride in their work.

Looking out to the front doors of the manor, the form moved quickly to the opposite side of the gate. With the crunching gravel under their feet, the guards that were posted outside the gates turned to see the back of their form.

"Who goes there? You don't have permission to be here, you must leave." The man commanded as they began to open the gates and head toward this masked form. But the unknown Visord paid no mind to him. They just kept moving forward toward the building at which the guards began to yell at the body now to leave the premises or be removed by force.

"Lord Grimmjow!" One of the guards called from the gate. One of the carriage drivers had turned to see their advance.

The pink haired famulus moved in front of the blue haired Child Lord, blocking the masked vigilante's vision. "Please move inside my Lord. Allow us to remove this intruder." He said. Grimmjow raised a brow before looking over his servant's shoulder toward the figure that was advancing on them.

"He's a little cocky, walking up like that to the Aizen estate." Grimmjow noted before stepping to the side, "I will wait right here. Get rid of him." He commanded, to which the pink haired boy nodded and bowed to his superior.

As Ichigo came to near twenty feet from the carriage, the guards barred his path back toward the gate and the pink haired butler boy blocked his advance. "You will remove yourself from the grounds, or I personally will remove you myself." He said.

Without a word, he took another step forward. The form didn't speak, didn't even make a motion to grab for the blade that was peeking out from beneath the brown cloak that was wrapped around their form.

The pink haired man looked him over carefully: slim-fitting black pair of trousers that held him tightly and the same type of top with long sleeves that formed into gloves. Finally, he looked to the mask that hindered his view of the face beneath. The white skull was one of the many giveaways that what stood in front of him was indeed a Visord. Black hair was behind the mask, but that was all that could be seen of the head.

But what was strange about it was the large brown cloak that was wrapped around the body; with a thick darker brown cord to tie it around the shoulders and hinder the view of the jaw. There was also the metal hexagon shaped plate that was attached to the cloth, with the symbol of the Visord's group.

"Szayelaporro, this is an official order from your Lord, remove this man." Grimmjow said as he stood aside another servant with black hair and pale skin. Once those words were spoken, the pinkette boy rushed forward with an open palm. His hand was mere millimeters away from the mask.

With the force of his might, he'd smashed the man's head down toward the ground. There was an explosion of dust from the force, and small pebbles of the gravel had been strewn about around them.

Breathing heavy, he chuckled and shook his head, "You should have just left." He said as he allowed the smoke to clear. Turning to his master, his breath hitched as he saw that the same form that he'd just smashed into the ground was standing there with his back to him.

Looking back to the being that he'd pummeled into the ground with that attack, he noticed that it wasn't the man he thought it was. It was one of the guards that were standing behind the intruder. "What the…how?" He looked back to the masked figure that was now just a foot away, the blade being drawn from its scabbard.

With the hilt smashed into the stomach of his adversary, the Visord pulled his hand back to allow the male to fall to the ground, knocked out. He then turned to the other two that still stood upon the steps to the manor.

"Ulquiorra." Grimmjow just said calmly, to which the other nodded. Taking a few steps down, he kept both hands in his pockets as he moved toward the masked being and his knocked out companion.

Stopping only a few feet away, the pale raven child pulled one hand from his pocket. The Visord watched as he reached for the pocket watch in his breast pocket; checking the time he replaced it before sighing deeply. "Dinner may be a few seconds late. I apologize my Lord." He said in a mellow tone.

The Visord in front of him now pointed the blade to Ulquiorra. In a moment, with the use of Shunpo, he was swinging the blade downward toward the pale male. Only to have it hit Ulquiorra in the forearm.

There was no flinch, no pain shown as he blocked the attack. This had caught the Visord off guard, being blocked by an arm was impossible. There was no such way! Unless…

He pulled the blade back, and swung again, this time listening intently as the blade was again blocked by the arm of the man. There was a sound.

It was a light sound, almost anyone would miss it. But not the masked figure. He noticed the jingle of what he guessed was chainmail under the garments of the servant's uniform. It was smart, to have such things on under your clothes. It was an admissible idea for one to do so; if that person ever got into a fight.

"Reap." Was the only word that came from the Visord. But as the green gas seeped from the blade, what happened next surprised everyone.

The form was gone. It was in the blink of an eye, the Visord that stood against Ulquiorra had disappeared leaving no trace behind. "Shunpo." Ulquiorra commented as he walked casually over to his knocked out companion to give him a swift kick and wake him from what now looked like a good night's rest.

"Clean up this mess, and then have dinner ready." Grimmjow commanded to the two servants that were now headed back to him. To which they just bowed their heads as he walked in. Sighing, he shook his head, "Unbelievable. Szayeloporro lost to someone so weak." He commented as he moved up the grand hall toward the steps.

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><p><strong>THANK YOU AGAIN TO MY BETA AiryAquarius! Whom without, I wouldn't be getting very far with this story.<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

"So they're both fairly tough to deal with huh?" Ichigo asked as he wrote notes in the book that sat open on his desk. Shuuhei was sitting across from him with his arms crossed over his chest, the mask that was once on his face now on the desk in front of him.

"Yes. The one that goes by the name Ulquiorra is the stronger of the two. And he seemed to be smarter as well." He said before looking up from his feet, "Szayelaporro, the one with pink hair and glasses, he seems to be stronger physically however." He stated before standing.

"Thank you Hisagi. You may go now." Ichigo commanded.

The other bowed his head before turning to walk out of the home, but he stopped before he had. "I would have learned more if you didn't intervene," he commented before he took his leave.

He looked over another book that lay next to the first. It was a list of all the heads of the current noble families. There were many names in the book, but only twelve were current. Currently, the 5th noble family's head was listed as Sosuke Aizen. The name itself just put Ichigo on edge. He'd heard stories from the 9th family's head, Kensei Muguruma.

In truth, Ichigo knew many of the families of nobility. None but Kensei, and Shinji Hirako knew his true identity; no one knew that Ichigo himself wasn't actually part of the Hirako family, the 4th noble family. Those two were both heads of the families, but not only that, they were both Visords as well.

He was taken in by the 4th noble family a year after his escape from that horrid life. A year after he lost both of his closest friends.

Despite how hard he tried, he had never been able to find Rukia. Both of his friends from that time were now both just pseudo graves that he made in the front of the hut they once occupied. As he closed his book with the thoughts of his young friends in his mind, he sighed before looking up.

He saw the only man that he actually trusted outside the families he was affiliated with. But that's probably because of the fact that this male was his own personal servant. Dressed in a tailored tailcoat, with a button down shirt under and a black tie, Ishida placed an envelope on the desk in front of Ichigo. The white tailored cotton gloves seemed to fit perfectly around his thin hands. "This came while Lord Hisagi was here. I thought it best not to disturb you until he had gone." He noted before pulling his hand back.

Ichigo just nodded and picked up the parcel. Looking it over, he flipped it over to see the Shihoin family crest engraved into the wax seal. With a swift slice from the letter opener that sat on his desk, Ichigo pulled the card out from the envelope. "Ichigo, I will be sending your 'reward' for this mission over today. They should be there by night fall. Now, there should be an invitation to a party arriving soon at the main house of the Hirako family. It's vital that you attend the party as I know the Child Lord will be there as well. Make sure he knows that you're part of nobility and you'll have free range to get closer to him. This 'reward' of yours is playing as my stand in for the party. I have other important business to attend to. Have fun at the party for me, Yoruichi." It was signed in her handwriting, with her signature paw print that she always tried to draw, only to have it turn out to be a smudge.

Ichigo pulled out a thick paper that was also in the envelope. It had a gold trim around the edge, with italic calligraphy, and stated that the head and heir of the Shihouin family was invited to the Aizen estate for a party that celebrated the development of trade routes to an adjacent country that the King had been trying to establish for a while. And thanks to the Aizen family's arrangements, they were finally able to, apparently. It was obvious to Ichigo that the invitation in his hands was for the person who was on their way over to his home as of now.

Of course it seemed that all the noble families were to be invited. And he, being the now sole heir to the Hirako family legacy, was to join in. Of course, as the sole heir to the Hirako family, he would eventually have to change his name to Hirako in order to take the nobility as his own.

As he burned the letter that was in his hand, he looked up to the servant who still stood before him. He didn't say anything, which seemed to make the standing male uncomfortable for a moment before he raised his head slightly, "Shall I make you some dinner, sir?" He asked with a hand to the spectacles that were sliding down his nose, just to push them back up.

"Yes, that'll be good. I have a guest coming tonight. I want this dinner to be spectacular. Don't hold anything back. This is an heir to a noble family, and I don't want anything to go wrong." He demanded as he placed the invitation on the side of his desk, not worrying about it for now. He'd get everything taken care of in the morning. He had a few days before the party, considering that he guessed there were more guests that were invited. Some probably weren't in the city limit so the guests would have had to travel for a few days by horse drawn carriage.

He stood to move about his office, pondering who it could possibly be that Madam Yoruichi was sending over. There was no one in particular that he'd wanted to see in a while. He didn't even know the name of the heir to her family. The Shihouin was the 2nd noble family, but it was a declining nobility to be a part of.

Ichigo stopped thinking about it as he moved up the stairs to his room at the top. He was tired from his work. Despite it being near the middle of the day, he just couldn't deal with staying awake any longer. He had been up working all the night before, trying to mix poisons, and training even though he didn't actually need it.

He'd write a letter of response to the Aizen family after he woke up. With that thought in mind, he smiled to himself needlessly. He'd remembered how when he studied under Ichibe, he had such a difficult time learning to read and write. He was almost ten then. And now, he was reading and writing so much that his hands sometimes hurt from it.

When he'd entered his room, he relieved himself of the shirt that he'd worn for the day as he moved over to the bed. He didn't even attempt to get comfortable on the furniture as he had fallen face first into the feathered pillows with his feet dangling off the edge of the right side of the bed.

"Shiro run!" He heard a loud scream. His head shot up and he looked around the room. It was dark now; it'd only been a minute that he'd laid down. What was going on? Had he fallen asleep without even realizing?

"Awe what's wrong Shiro?" He heard a different voice this time. Standing, he moved to the door. Opening it, he looked down the hall that leads toward the stairs.

"Shiro run! We'll be alright!" It was a soft kind voice this time. He knew that he'd heard it before. But it was strange. The feelings that he had when he'd heard that voice made him feel small. It made him feel weak.

He let out a groan before he moved out of the hall and down the hardwood stairs. "That's not my name." He whispered to reassure himself that he was now Ichigo, not Shirosaki. It was weird that he'd done that. Why had he wanted to make sure that he was Ichigo? Why did it feel like he was lying to himself as to who he was?

The floor felt cold, and he could feel wind against his face. Turning the knob he pulled the door open. What he saw however was something he couldn't comprehend. It was as if his whole life was suddenly a lie, and he was still a child.

Red everywhere, covering the floor, covering the body. That beautiful red hair that he'd grown so used to always seeing was strewn about around the form's head. He was back inside the hut he'd once lived in.

He couldn't feel himself breathe, he couldn't say anything. Not even a whimper came from him.

"R-renji?" He heard. Turning around, he saw a child who he instantly recognized.

"Really? So this is how it's going to be?" He screamed. "It's not my fault! I did everything I could to protect him, I did everything I could to protect them both!"

Crouching in place, he wrapped his arms around his torso, "It's not my fault. I did everything I could…" He repeated to himself. But after a moment, he noticed something. It was quiet around him.

Looking up, his breath hitched and was wiped from his lungs. Both the children, Shirosaki, and Renji stood in front of him. The boy with bloody child stood with his face hidden under the red of his hair, and the crimson of his blood. The other one looked more morbid than deathly.

Ichigo's blood felt cold. It was as though his veins themselves were freezing over in the fear that he'd felt.

"Why didn't you protect me?" Renji asked as he took a step closer.

"Why didn't you protect your friends?" Shirosaki asked as he also took a step closer.

"Protect me."

"Protect them."

He had to move, had to get out of there. It felt as though he was stabbed through the lung and he couldn't breathe. Air came into his lungs, but blew out just as quickly. He couldn't control it.

Scrambling to his feet, he turned and ran out of the door, only to find he was standing outside the front of the hut from his childhood.

He heard a noise behind him. His heart pounded and screamed for him to calm. But his mind screamed for him to run, to run away and hide.

He turned to run, but stopped before he even got a step from where he stood. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes at the scene that he saw. There, standing in front of him, was Rukia. Her short form now only a few inches from his height. But she looked the same, that small child form, the frail body, and those dead looking eyes that once held so much joy, despite not being able to see.

Her hand stretched out to touch him. But he couldn't move. He reached out to take her hand. Her hand moved passed his, reaching up to his cheek. It was then that he realized that she hadn't grown taller, but he was in his six year old self's body.

But she didn't touch his face. Her fingers wrapped themselves around his throat, squeezing tightly enough that the burning in his lungs was now scorching. He gasped for breath as he tried to pry her fingers from him. But they wouldn't budge.

"Ru—" He tried to call out to tell her that it was him, but her grip tightened.

"Shiro what's wrong? Did you get something to eat? Renji brought some food home today so we ate, did you?" She asked in her sweet, soft voice. He remembered it, and it made the tears in his eyes start to cascade. He's the one that really killed her; the one that really killed Renji.

Her grip on his throat was released and his form fell to the mud. His hands and knees held him from laying down right there in the disgusting squish of the filth. "I'm sorry. I should have protected you. I should have saved you. I know it's my fault!" He screamed as he looked up with tears in his eyes to see both Rukia and Renji standing in front of him. The looks on their faces were as dead as they were.

"I tried to save you both, I did! I brought you, Renji, to Ms. Unohana! She did everything she could! But you died during surgery; I even made graves for the both of you!" He screamed louder as the tears never stopped, "Rukia, I looked everywhere for you. I still look out for you; I'm still trying to find you. I just can't!" He pulled his hands from the mud to cover his face from the shame.

"Look at you, groveling at their feet like you would have been able to save them even if you were there." A voice spoke out. It was cold and sadistic, but familiar. It was so familiar that it froze the rest of his tears. It froze his body to the core to hear that voice.

Turning, he saw the wide grin of the two people who he hated the most in the world. Those two that he feared would come back around to finish him off.

Yammy stood there, his arms crossed and the grin wide on his lips. "Little Shiro is so weak!" He screamed with a laugh.

The other form, struck fear not only to his core, but to his whole being. Seeing that face, seeing that smile, he couldn't move. His body froze and his mind stuck in disbelief. That orange hair, those brown eyes, that satanic smile. The fear was now running deeper into him.

"You aren't afraid of dying are you? No, what you're afraid of the most is realizing that you're weak and that you've always been weak! You're afraid that you are the one that actually killed your friends because of how weak you are!" He screamed with a laugh. The doppelganger shook his head before grabbing ahold of Ichigo's hair. "That's right, I killed Renji, and Rukia." He hissed the words into Ichigo's face.

"No."

"No? Yes, I killed them. But it wasn't just me! WE killed them." He said with his smile growing wider. "That's right. I killed them, but because I'm you, WE killed them!"

"No!" He screamed. Standing, he threw his copy off of him into the mud. He stood tall for the first time, tears still in his eyes, "I didn't kill them! I tried to save them! I wanted to keep them alive! I wanted to have fun with them! I wanted to live with them! I wanted to be able to laugh and joke with them forever! I wanted to grow old with them and just know that they had a good fulfilling life! It was HIM that killed them!" He screamed with an accusing finger pointed at Yammy, who was still smiling.

The smile, it sickened him to the core. It made him mad, it made his blood boil and fill with the poison of anger. The more he saw it, the more that he could see Yammy's face, he wanted to do nothing but beat him to a pulp.

Screaming with rage his little body moved on its own, past the copy that lay on the ground with disbelief in his eyes. He was running toward Yammy now. He didn't raise a fist, he didn't swing blindly. He knew his targets now, and he knew how to strike. Despite being a little shorter than his target, he still moved with the intent to kill.

His little body seemed actually easier for him to manage now that he noticed how quickly he moved. As he got closer, he jumped up to swing a punch at the other's face. But it was caught rather easily and thrown to the ground.

Falling toward the grime under their feet, he felt himself smash into the ground. For being made of mud, it was rather solid. He groaned as he thought of how it should have been so much easier with the ways that he'd learned to fight as he grew. But it didn't occur to him that he was in his childhood body, and that body didn't know how to fight.

A weight landed on his stomach, and he groaned before opening his eyes to see his copy with the manic grin on his lips. "The xiphosternum!*" He laughed before making a punch hit right into Ichigo's chest. Pain, intense pain. That was one of the points that he knew would kill.

"You basta—" he was caught off by a punch to his cheek.

"Shut up!" He screamed before laughing at how he'd snapped Ichigo's temporomandibular joint **.

The bones in his cheeks hurt, and from the punch he could feel the pain of them having broken. His jaw was now busted, he couldn't talk. It hurt; it hurt so much that he could feel his tears started to pour out like a cascading waterfall.

There was a stomp on his left hand then. Yammy stood over with a smile, the heel of his large boot was crushing both the metacarpals and carpals in Ichigo's left hand now. A muffled scream coursed through him as his jaw couldn't move to let it out properly. And that hurt even more because he couldn't move the joint there.

"Ichigo…" He heard. After hearing that name, he felt a smash against both his tibia, one to his right clavicle, then to his left ribs. He couldn't scream due to his second wound. But each one was painful enough as he'd felt the bones snap so easily.

He opened his eyes one last time just to see a fist coming to hit him. But it didn't connect. The pain had disappeared, and he felt almost safe again. But it wasn't a comfortable feeling.

Ichigo's eyes shot open and he could see naught but a dark room. His breathing was still erratic, but slowing to a steady pace. "Just a dream." He whispered to himself. Then there was a knock at the door to his room.

"Young Lord?" He heard from the other side.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute!" He called with a huff and a ruffle of his hair. He looked around trying to remember what it was that he'd had a dream about. Whatever it was, it fled his mind like a bird set free.

After shaking himself off, and getting dressed in a white long sleeved tunic, and a pair of black pants, he left his room. "Ishida, is dinner ready?" He asked as he came down the stairs.

"Yes M' Lord." He heard, and he nodded to himself. Just before he got to the end of the steps, he looked up from his feet to see the servant standing there with his arms behind his back, looking up at his orange haired master. "Sir, your guest is here. I showed him to the study. I hope that is alright?" He asked before he pushed the edge of his glasses a little higher on his nose.

"Yes that's fine." He said before taking the last few steps. Ishida nodded before heading off toward the kitchen once again.

"Well. Here we go." He said as he shook his head and walked around the corner to the study. When he looked up to see the person who stood by one of the windows looking out to the street, his body froze. He could feel himself shivering from either it fear or regret, or maybe it was joy. He couldn't tell now as he stood there looking at the tattoos that ran down the form under the fine clothes of a nobleman.

It just couldn't be, there was no way.

"Renji?" He whispered. But his voice was heard, and the red haired male turned to see him.

Surprise, complete surprise was on Renji's face. "Shiro?"

* * *

><p>* xiphosternum* This is part of the sternum, the center of the rib cage. It's the small point at the bottom. If broken off, it is more than likely going to puncture the liver and cause lethal hemorrhaging.<p>

** Temporomandibular joint** The TMJ is a bilateral synovial articulation between the mandible and temporal bone. Or in easier terms, it connects the jaw to the skull, and allows the jaw movement when speaking.

**Everyone please give special thanks to my Beta here, AiryAquarius~ Thank you!**


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn't until Ichigo heard the name he once went by that he regained his composure. Clearing his throat, he stood properly and straightened his shoulders. "I apologize, I thought that you were someone else," he said before walking over to him and raising a hand for the coming introduction. "The name is Ichigo, Ichigo Hirako Kurosaki." He said his given name as proudly as he could.

"Shiro…" He heard the red haired male whisper before he saw the older version of his once childhood friend sigh and shake his head, "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else as well." He said before taking his hand and shaking it. "The name is Renji Shihouin Abari."

"_I'm sorry Renji, I just can't be your friend like I used to._" Ichigo thought to himself as he shook the hand that grasped his own. "It's a pleasure. Please, my house is more than open to you, and you may ask anything of my servants, they are at your disposal. But please, I must ask that while I am in my study not to disturb me. I have very important business to attend to." He said before motioning his hand as to lead the red haired male out of the room.

Renji just nodded and headed out of the room while Ichigo slid a wooden door from the wall to fill in the archway. Once the door was closed, he rested his back against the hard wood that protected him from the rest of the people in the house. His servants knew that when the door was closed, no one was to go in there, or even knock.

Sliding down the flat surface, he rested on the floor with his arms on his knees. He could feel a multitude of emotions welling up in his chest, but there wasn't anything that he was able to do about such feelings.

He was supposed to be one of those heartless assassins that were able to deal with anything, even if the mark in question was their best friend, or their parent, or even their twin. He was supposed to be able to shatter any emotion that came to him, so why was he only now feeling that everything he had worked toward was useless now?

If there was anyone that he could talk to about such a thing, he didn't know who it was. Sighing, he pushed himself off the floor. He had to keep going, he had to make himself as heartless as he was supposed to be. Closing his eyes for a second, he let his breath calm for a moment as he felt his heart slow to the usual pace, and his eyes opened once again. His cold eyes looked around the room, analyzing. He had to take care of business again. But that would have to wait till morning, right now; he had to come up with a plan.

At the same time, on the other side of the door, Renji moved across the main room toward where he guessed the kitchen was. He had to get to the bottom of his feelings toward this new face. He heard the name he'd been given, Ichigo. It was so weird to see that face. He thought for certain that it was his once childhood friend Shirosaki. But that couldn't be. He had heard from Kisuke—Lady Yuroichi's husband—that the child he once lived with had long since passed on. Even his adoptive mother had told him so.

When he found the kitchen, he saw two people standing there, both working diligently on making food for him and their master. When he stepped through the threshold of the archway between the main room and the kitchen, he raised his head as most nobles would when they entered a room that contained servants.

"Oh, sir, is there anything I can do for you?" He was asked when the dark haired butler with glasses looked up to see him.

He looked behind him to check and make sure the study door was still closed before turning back to the serf. "I have a question that I'd like answered." He said as he moved toward the man. The brows that were slightly hidden behind the frames of the glasses rose in question, "Where does the young Lord Kurosaki come from exactly?"

The orange haired maid that was working on kneading the dough froze at the question, and the butler seemed to go rigid. "I'm sorry sir, but I am unable to answer such a question. I don't know where he came from, but from what I've been told, Lord Hirako adopted my young master into the family from when he spent time abroad." He said this quite well but how Renji was reading his body language said he was lying. Of course it was obvious that he had rehearsed such a response quite thoroughly. But the still rigid form and the nervousness of the maid was evidence enough that he was lying.

Renji just nodded before turning. He knew now that he wouldn't be able to get any information from them. There was only one other person he would be able to turn to for such a request. "I'll be heading out for a little bit. I should be back in time for whatever that wonderful smell is."

Once he was out of the house, he brought his coat around himself to keep warm in the chill of the night. He was never one to enjoy the chiller seasons.

He moved quietly through the streets to a house that was not but near three blocks away. It was a house he was far too familiar with despite the manor he lived at being on the opposite side of town. Rapping on the door, he slid his hands in his pockets and waited.

When the door opened, he saw the blonde haired male look at him before raising a brow. "My Lord, what can we do for you at this fine hour?" He asked as he stepped aside to allow Renji entrance.

Upon walking in, Renji started to remove his coat to reveal the delicate purple linen robes of nobility that he wore underneath. Handing his coat to the blonde serf, he sighed, "I need to speak with your master." He stated bluntly as he moved toward the main room to wait.

"Right away sir." The blonde said before turning.

"Thank you Izuru." He said, before sitting down. He couldn't help but let his mind linger on the orange haired male that he had encountered. Why Yoruichi had insisted that he go to the home of this young lord was quite beyond him. He understood that she needed something delivered, but he didn't understand why one of their own servants couldn't give the letter to Hirako's family heir.

Upon hearing footsteps, he stood from his seat and faced the direction of the noise. Upon seeing his longtime friend, he smiled. "There you are Shuuhei. It's been a while." He said, and reached out for the hand shake.

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"Ishida!" Ichigo called as he finally looked up from his papers. He was trying to figure out some connection he and the Child Lord Grimmjow might have had to one another. He was drawing blanks everywhere. The male was nowhere in the books and papers that he held of birth records or adoption papers.

Hearing a soft knock on his door, he looked up once again from shuffling his papers, "get in here." He commanded.

As told, the glasses wearing butler came through the door before sliding it closed once again. "Yes m'lord?" He asked as he pushed his glasses a little higher on his nose to keep them from them sliding down.

"When shall dinner be ready?" Ichigo questioned as he looked through the papers once again. There had to be something right? There was always a paper trail of some sort. But then again, there was no way to be sure. He had the only copies of the Aizen's family history; the originals were all in the castle's archive.

"Within the next quarter hour." He heard from the servant that stood in front of him with his pocket watch in his hand, checking the time.

"Good. Go tell that Child Lord, Renji, that I'll be joining him shortly." As he said the title of the red haired male, he let his tone dip into sarcasm. He honestly couldn't picture Renji, the child he knew when he lived in the warrens, as the son of a lord. It was unfathomable.

"If I may say so, sir," Ichigo looked up to the spoken words of his lead servant, "he stepped out for a little while. He did say that he'd be back for dinner. He did not however disclose the destination of his venture." He mentioned.

Ichigo groaned and leaned back in his seat. What was he to do with a young lord that he was supposed to be entertaining for the night when he was not even here? Standing, he started moving toward the door when both he and Ishida noted the sound of the front door closing and the lock clinking into place.

Sighing, he moved past the servant that still stood there with his legs spread and his arms behind his back. As he slid the door open, he looked to his red haired guest. He had to remember to hold his temper, as the Child Lord in front of him didn't exactly know who he was at this moment. He knew that his face would be similar, if not the same as Shirosaki, the child Renji knew ten years prior. Despite the year break, he could see that Renji looked close if not the same as he once had. But thanks to the time, he couldn't recall his old friend's features as thoroughly as he thought he'd be able to. So it was obvious that he would look similar, but Renji wouldn't be able to recall him completely either.

"Ah there you are Lord Shihouin." Ichigo said with a forced smile. He may have been his friend at one point, but he didn't know the Renji that now stood in front of him.

The other male looked him in the eye with a straight expression. "Drop the act Shirosaki." He demanded. Ichigo mentally ripped at his hair as he heard the name he once used. There was no way that Renji would be able to know it was him, he had to play this off.

"I'm sorry who is—" He cut himself off as he saw Renji cross his arms in disbelief.

"Shuuhei told me you were adopted into the Hirako family from the warrens, and that was all he knew apparently." He said with a raised brow and an obvious pissed expression. Ichigo sighed, and bit his lip before thinking of a multitude of ways to murder his 'friend.'

"Well then I guess my secret's out of the bag huh?" He sighed before turning and walking away. He didn't wait for an answer as he moved toward the dining hall. "Ishida, is the food ready?" He called out.

He heard rummaging from the kitchen area, which he only assumed had to be Orihime, his maid, trying to hurry with the cooking. He could only assume what it was that she attempted to prepare for him. He was always grateful to have Ishida around. The guy could actually cook rather well.

"Shiro why didn't you tell me you were alive?" He heard Renji ask when he came into the dining hall behind him.

Ichigo moved to the head of the long table. Sitting, he sighed and looked out over the table. With the four chairs on either side of it, and one chair at the opposite end.

He raised a hand toward that one as if to gesture for Renji to sit at the far end from him.

Renji did, but still held a concerned yet questioning gaze on the strawberry.

"Because Renji, I was told that you had died from your wounds." Ichigo crossed his arms and closed his eyes before taking a long breath of the air.

The red pineapple haired man perked up when he heard that. Raising a brow, he tilted his head to the left slightly. "Who was it that told you that?" He asked.

About this time, the two servants that were in the kitchen started making their way out into the dining hall. The maid pushed a cart that held all of the food on it. She went ahead and placed four plates on the table, one for Ichigo, one for Renji, and one on both sides of the table at different seats. Ishida was placing the platters of food on the table before nodding to Orihime.

She went ahead and moved to the other side of the table and sat in front of the plate she had placed there. Renji raised a brow at the action, and almost spoke up. However Ichigo had interrupted his thought by answering the oncoming question.

"I allow my servants to eat along with me." He said as he glanced toward Orihime, who didn't seem to be able to hold his gaze long before her cheeks went aflame and her gaze dropped to her plate. "I figure, they cooked the meal, so why not allow them to eat it as well?" He asked with a look to his old friend.

Renji thought for a moment before nodding at the idea of it, "Yeah that sounds nice of you actually. Despite everything I've heard of the heartless, yet brave young Lord Kurosaki." He said with a laugh, and it made Ichigo smirk as well. He even noticed that Ishida was slightly grinning as he plated food for everyone, starting with Renji's plate.

"Well I've heard nothing of the heir to the Shihouin family. So tell me what's had you for these past ten years?" He questioned as he nodded to Ishida, who was plating his food now with a questioning look when he pointed silently to the large leg of goat that was sitting in the middle of the table.

"Before that. I just remembered I have something for you." He moved to stand, but Ishida put a hand on his shoulder.

"If there's anything that you'd like me to grab, I can. Just please enjoy your dinner." The servant said.

Renji nodded and smiled politely to him, "If you could grab the letter that's in the inner pocket of my coat for the young Lord Hirako here." He gestured his head toward Ichigo, his eyes still on the butler. The mention of the family name made it obvious that he was trying to tease his friend.

"Of course sir." Ishida nodded before walking off.

"So?" Ichigo asked as he tangled his fingers together while his arms rested on the table and his hands hid half his face. "What's had you for ten years that you never thought to go introduce yourself to the Child Lord Ichigo Hirako Kurosaki?" He asked with an amused gaze.

Upon seeing that neither Ichigo nor the maid, Orihime, had started eating yet, he didn't pick up his fork either. "Well I've been working with Kisuke for a while, trying to learn the craft of trading with other countries. So I've learned quite a few languages. But I also had to learn to read and write, in each language." He explained.

Ichigo nodded, he was impressed to say the least. His childhood friend, learning different languages and about trading with other countries was somewhat impressive. He never really thought he'd see the day that Renji had his interest piqued enough for him to go through with learning it all. But he was.

A moment later, Ishida had returned with a somewhat lengthy envelope in hand. Walking to Ichigo, he handed it over before sitting down in his seat where he had earlier plated food for himself. It was then that Ichigo had placed the letter to the side and picked up his fork to start eating. With that gesture, both Orihime and Ishida had picked their own up and started as well.

Renji realized then that Ichigo wasn't waiting for an answer from him; he was waiting for his servant to return before he began to eat. He wanted everyone at the table before anyone started. It struck him as strange, but polite at the same time.

After a few bites, Ichigo went ahead and grabbed the unused knife that sat in front of him before slicing open the letter. "Let's see what it is that you've given me now Renji." He said as he allowed the contents to fall out over his lap. There were about three pages.

He looked up from them to Renji with a raised brow. Renji just shrugged, "I haven't the slightest what it's about. Lady Yoruichi just gave it to me and told me to give it to, and I quote, 'young Lord Kurosaki.'"

Ichigo chuckled with a shake of his head before looking over what it was. He sighed; it was a lengthy letter to be sure.

_Ichigo, I apologize for the second letter. I had entrusted Renji to hand this one to you personally due to the courier__not being as secure as him. Renji is also trained in multiple languages, and has the ability to defend himself. I apologize now that I didn't tell you that he was alright and in my care. I wanted it to be a surprise; I just didn't know when to surprise you. But I figured it was better now than ever since you two have the same story. Except he's not a murderer._ Ichigo snickered to himself at reading the word, and glanced to Renji who raised a brow.

"What is it? What did she write?" He asked while his friend just shook his head.

"It's nothing." He said before looking back to the page to continue reading.

_Now to the real matter at hand. When I gave you this newest job, I failed to mention one very important detail. I did this because there are eyes on me, I don't know any names or faces, but they would have me killed if it was found out that I went to a Vizord for help in this situation._

Ichigo flipped to the next page.

_Now, I only told you to become friends with the Child Lord Grimmjow, because I wanted you to get close to him, close enough to be friends. However, I got this job from someone else. I got this job from his father, Lord Aizen. He explained to me that he was going to have a party well in advance to the invitations we received. He also told me that someone is targeting both him, and his son. He told me to get someone, anyone who would be strong enough, to protect Grimmjow during this party._

Finally flipping to the last page, he already had a bad feeling of where this was going.

_You probably already guessed this, but the true meaning for this mission is for you to protect the Child Lord, Grimmjow Aizen Jeagerjaques during the party at the Aizen manor. This is a contract already put into place, so his life is now in your hands. Do not fail this mission, or I will have the guards after you._

Again it was signed with her name and the sad attempt at a paw print. He growled to himself before fitting the papers together. He knew all too well that Yoruichi would be able to get the guards after him. She was well netted into all of their dealings. And by most means, it was from blackmail. She ran most of the prostitution houses in secret. So she learned all the secrets of the guards who went ahead into the houses.

Holding the papers up to a candle that sat toward the center of the table, he let the edge catch before pulling it back and setting it in an ash tray that sat to his left side. "_I can't believe she roped me into protecting someone. I don't do protection. I do the killing!_" He thought to himself before he continued eating.

A few hours later, Renji stood by the door to the small manor that Ichigo lived in. "It was great to see you again. But for now, I need to head back. I know Lady Yoruichi is eager to have me back." He sighed and shook his head with a smirk to his friend.

"I know. I'll see you again." Ichigo said with a full smile now, he felt great. He wouldn't admit that to anyone. But it was nice to know that he had indeed saved his best friend when they were children. It was something that no one would be able to replace for him.

"Goodnight, Lord Ichigo Hirako Kurosaki." Renji said in a more proper manner as he turned, walking away from the home.

"Renji!" He called to his friend, who in turn spun around to see him again, "It's Shiro." He said with a warm smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you once again to my wonderful beta AiryAquarius. They've helped me so much, and have put up with my irritating habits of my writing (and spelling errors…) SO I am completely grateful to them!<strong>


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